Skip to content

NT Wright on blogging and more.

November 24, 2009

I am thankful for the people I have met in cyber world.  But the ones I am most thankful for are ones that I have actually met and for the ones that have resulted in action in the “real” world.  I know some friends would disagree with this video, but I think it is right on.     So, Wright is right on.

Ur Video: NT Wright on Blogging | Out of Ur | Conversations for Ministry Leaders

Posted using ShareThis

Advertisements

New – Old podcasts

October 15, 2009

I have posted three lessons from this past spring and summer that I gave.

Here- Mother’s Day- power of love.

Here- First in Reel to Real series – Forgiveness- Bella

Here – Reel to Real series – what it means to be human – Patch Adams

Do You Love Me

August 26, 2009

a message I gave from this past Easter. HERE

To sit in your fathers lap and forget

July 30, 2009

Last night, my nine year old Caleb was having a tough time.  He is all heart and that can at times be a great thing.  But at times when he thinks things are not going the way he wants…or if he senses something is wrong…or even if he feels upset because he as been corrected;  he will get very down.  Last night he was telling Kim how horrible his life was.  In the past we have tried to tell him over and over all the good things in his life.  Kim was trying that last night, and he said she was saying all the things he didn’t want to hear.  (been there, how about you?)

So I was sitting in my bed and he came in and said he wanted to talk to me.  That “I feel better after I talk to you”.   So I told him that maybe when he was expressing his displeasure, it scared us, that maybe he should just say, “right now things seem awful” or that maybe we needed to hear it that way.  

So as we talked I held him in my lap.  Realizing that in a few short moments he will be “too big” for sitting in my lap and for me to hold him. 

Craig, who has taught me so much, wrote today about a recent time with his family.  It well worth a read.   And it has me thinking.

I want for a moment to be where I can forget I am an adult and just be a child.  A moment to crawl in my heavenly father’s lap, (because I will have to admit that my earthly father is gone and our relationship is what it is (unless that beautiful scene in The Shack comes true)).  To crawl in his lap and say “right now things seem awful” to find his favor, to find his delight and find his love.

the heart of the matter

February 10, 2009

I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit in you; I will remove from you your heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh. And I will put my Spirit in you and move you to follow my decrees and be careful to keep my laws. (Ezek. 36:26–27)

This we now know: the heart is central. It matters—deeply. When we see with the eyes of the heart, which is to say, when we see mythically, we begin to awaken, and what we discover is that things are not what they seem. We are at war. We must fight for the life God intends for us, which is to say, we must fight for our heart, for it is the wellspring of that life within us.

Standing in the way of the path to life—the way of the heart— is a monstrous barrier. It has stopped far too many pilgrims dead in their tracks for far too long. There is a widespread belief among Christians today that the heart is desperately wicked—even after a person comes to Christ.

It is a crippling belief.

And it is untrue.

(The Sacred Romance, 53–54)

Slurring Speech

February 3, 2009

Just wanted to share this.  It is from Craig McConnell.  He is part of the ministry team at Ransomed Heart and his blog can be found HERE.

I’m standing alongside Manhattan Beach Blvd. December 23rd waving greetoriously* to sore seated commuters in holiday traffic who are hoping they’ll make it through the intersection during the next green light… to hope again at the next intersection.  I’m waving, smiling, doing a holiday jig and blowing kisses while the drivers are either, with fixed glaze avoiding all eye contact with me, looking past me with laser-beam dismissal or waving with ear-to-ear grins joyously. Have I mentioned yet I was in a classy, far out five star Santa outfit?**I always knew you existed… I love you Santa…. Merry Christmas!” The responsive-warm-ones hailed me with cheer, some yelling out, “

Horns were honked. Little children froze in their car seats and shyly covered their mouths when mom pointed me out to them. Women gawked. Grown men:dock workers, military satellite intelligence officers… phone book distributors, accountants, and two geeky plumbers ALL gave me their version of the beefy nod and wave-with-hands-gripping-the-steering-wheel.

There I was… anonymous… in a Santa outfit… getting the same response a rock star, Obama, General MacArthur, or a superhero would. I’ll admit it, I was soaking it in. Loving it, milking it, working it.

After gigging rush hour traffic, Lori (Mrs. Claus AKA “Santa’s Helper”) and I head to a friend’s home to make a surprise appearance at her Christmas party.

For the sake of brevity I’m leaving out the in-route stories of dropping into my daughter’s Pilates Studio for a photo-op working out (as best I could with a pillow cummerbund); running into a Vietnamese Nail Salon to give the shy staff hugs and offer up a robust “Ho, ho, ho!” in my distinctive pirate accent; and hanging out of the car window like my Lab Retriever wishing everyone the very merriest of seasons.

I pop into our friend’s party, spread a little cheer, hand out a few gifts and pose for pictures with every woman in the place. Everyone loves me, I’m Santa… I’m digging it.

The next stop is a set up/staged appearance for our two granddaughters: Jacqueline (3 ½) and Annie (2). The plan was for Lori to ring a few “reindeer” bells near the house which would flush the kids out onto the lawn with the anticipation of maybe seeing Santa in the neighborhood. From the front yard they would see “Santa” moseying down the street. The plan was that, in the dark, they wouldn’t recognize that it was me/grandpa/”Aboo”*** in a costume, and I would greet them by name with a heartfelt “Ho, ho, ho!” (minus the pirate accent), promise them some gifts, squeeze in a “Jesus is the reason for the season” and then graciously move on to tend to my reindeer and head to New Zealand.

So… as planned I’m five houses down the street approaching my granddaughters who are huddled together on the sidewalk whispering to Mrs. Claus, Mom, Dad, their Auntie and friends/family (similar to watching wildlife move about from the edge of a meadow at dusk). I’m about a house away and I see my older granddaughter leap into her mother’s arms… she’s scared to death! It strikes me that with my Santa boots, Santa wig, Santa hat and Santa shoulder pads I’m probably 6’8”. I’m Hulk Hogan or Keith Richards in red velvet, a monster with a fake beard and a fuzzy hat about to pounce on her. My buccaneer “Ho, ho, ho”“I don’t ever want to see Santa again… I don’t like Santa”. So much for my super star status! Meanwhile, the younger one, Annie, runs up to me… front and center, two feet away, and beneath red curls her full-moon eyes are gazing up at me in total wonderment. By the time I looked down and noticed her she’s in full stride, boldly standing there in exhilarated-run-together sentences with fast-forward age appropriate slurring of speech she gushes out,  “Santa, Santa, Santa, I love you… you’re awesome Santa, Santa, I love you, love you, love you” and somewhere in all of this I heard the word “Tink” mentioned. I knew she was referring to Tinkerbelle, for she had been talking of nothing else for 64 days. She wanted Tinkerbelle! Tinkerbelle anything: sweat shirt, doll, coloring book, ring tone, dress, DVD, shoes … anything “Tink”. didn’t help! She buries her head in the crook of her mom’s neck crying,

Standing in the presence of Santa, her young heart free to express itself safely, she gushed searching for and finding every word she had that could speak of her adoration… and desire. It was desire… yet her marveling reverence was predominating.  It was a moment she wasn’t going to miss and I didn’t want to end. Annie was putting it all out there. It was innocent, it was sweet, and it was as pure as anything in this life… the perfect meritage of love and longing.

I said goodbye, they all headed indoors, I headed up the street looking for a sleigh. Alone I started weeping. So in love, so very, very happy and longing/aching for my first moment in His presence in exhilarated-run-together sentences with fast-forward age appropriate slurring of speech…

– Craig McConnell

* So… is it really a crime to create new words?

** While I was in Australia with the Ransomed Heart Team Lori and her girlfriend Leah spent a snowy week designing and sewing the certifiably authentic Santa outfit. We’re talking a work of beauty… the whole enchilada… lined coat, white gloves, fur topped boots et cetera.

***When my daughter was expecting our first grandchild I got the harebrain idea that the kids ought to call me “Captain”. I thought it would be respectful, fun… Craig…unique. The best laid plans of mice and men… So, Jacqueline was born and a few months later she decided I ought to be called “Aboo”… it stuck.

we are now in Wuhan

January 11, 2009

we get our daughter today!  in just a few hours.  we have posted over at Innocent Lamb